


First and Last

by innerdialogue



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fat Shaming, M/M, Mpreg, putting it here anyway, that might be a little strong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2563460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerdialogue/pseuds/innerdialogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People make stupid comments.  Louis Litt is no exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            Mike is used to stupid comments.

            He learned early that, simply because he was an omega, other people were somehow entitled to voice their opinion about his designation.  It didn’t matter who they were—teachers at school, parents of friends, strangers on the subway—anybody who knew or found out about that Mike was an omega would immediately comment on that fact.

            Louis Litt proves to be no exception.

“Ross, forgive me, but I don’t remember seeing a memo about today being Casual Friday,” Louis says.  He sneers as he looks Mike up and down.  “What, you think just because you’re Harvey Specter’s golden boy, you can flout the dress code?”

            “Louis,” Donna warns.

            Mike looks down at himself.  While he isn’t wearing a full suit, he thought that he had found a happy medium.  His slacks are nice enough, even if they have elastic in the waist, and his shirt at least has a collar.

            “I’m sorry,” he says.  “It’s just...this is the only thing I could find that would fit me.”

            Louis sniffs.  “We here at Pearson Hardman are expected to look our best at all times because we _are_ the best.”

            It feels like someone has dumped ice water down Mike’s back.  He hears his own pulse as the blood rushes to his face.

            “If you aren’t willing to conform to something as simple as the dress code,” Louis says with a sniff.  “Then perhaps we should consider _cutting the fat_ from our associate pool.”

            The pounding of his pulse in Mike’s ears roars even over Donna’s horrified gasp.  He all but tosses the file onto her desk and flees.

 

     **************

 

            Despite the fact they simply needed a final signature on of a contract that would end an almost month-long struggle, Harvey’s meeting with Walter Ellis lasts almost two hours.  He and Jessica both have done their best to assuage their client of his fears that merging his company with that of his largest competitor means that he will stand to earn more money than God, Ellis still baulks and moans until Harvey is about ready to strangle the infuriating beta with his own necktie.

            But they get it done, and after shaking hands and wishing Mr. Ellis a good day, Harvey and Jessica still exit the conference room in time to see Donna slap Louis across the face.  Loudly and painfully.

            “Louis, with me,” Jessica hisses.  She gives Harvey the Look and stalks off to her office, Louis following after her.

            “Donna.”  Despite the secret pleasure he feels at seeing Louis having the ever-loving shit slapped out of him by a beta, Harvey cannot have his secretary assaulting senior partners.  “What the hell happened?”

            She shakes her head, jaw clenched tight.  “Go find Mike.”

            “What about Mike?”

            “ _Go_.”

            “Take an early lunch,” Harvey strongly suggests even as he walks past her desk and down the hall.

            Mike has a number of hiding spots throughout the office.  Depending on the situation, he might be found anywhere from the file room to the library to the women’s bathroom on the forty-third floor.  Normally, Donna or even that brunette paralegal would be the one to point him in the right direction, but Harvey knows he has to be the one this time.

            He follows his nose.  Even without seeing where Mike was headed, Harvey smells the scent he has come to associate with Mike.  

 

            “Mike.”  Harvey leans against the stall door, propping his forehead against his forearm.  “I can’t fix it until you tell me what I’m supposed to be fixing.”

            “My heat is coming up,” Mike says through the door.

            “I know.”

            “You _know_?”  The door snaps open, and Mike is in Harvey’s face.

            “Yes, and I decided to keep you busy until you were ready to talk to me about it,” Harvey replied.  “Was I wrong?”

            “I--no.  You weren’t wrong.”

            They stand there watching each other, waiting for the other to bring up what they both can feel is coming.  Mike seems bound and determined to ignore it, so Harvey makes the first move.

            “How long before it starts properly?”

            Mike shrugs.  “A day or two at the most.  My appetite is almost gone, and my digestive system will probably start shutting down tomorrow.”

            Harvey nods, thinking ahead in his own schedule.  Meetings all day tomorrow, but nothing so demanding that it couldn’t be postponed for a week or handed off altogether.  

            “Who do you usually spend your heats with?  Do we have time to call them in?”

            Mike looks down, fiddling with the slide bolt on the stall door.  He mumbles something.

            “Mike,” Harvey says.  He should feel bad about using what Mike calls his ‘alpha voice’, but there really isn’t time for playing around.  “Who do you spend your heats with?”

            “I don’t,” Mike replies.  He shrugs again, still refusing to meet Harvey’s eyes.  “I usually just hole up in my room and wait it out.”

            “You use toys?”

            Another embarrassed shrug.

            “Weed?”

            “Yes.”

            Harvey takes a deep breath, exhaling through his nose.  This close, he can’t help but get a nose-full of omega pheromones.  It’s intoxicating--Mike’s intoxicating--and Harvey leans farther into Mike’s space, inhaling again.

            “We have a deal, Mike,” he says, making sure to catch his associate’s eye.  “Were you planning on breaking that deal?  Tell me the truth.”

            His “alpha voice” again.  Mike nods.

            “That’s not an option anymore, Mike.  Not only is that a no-go considering the conditions of your employment, you also need an alpha to get you through a heat properly.”

            “I don’t have anyone, Harvey,” Mike says.  “And I don’t feel comfortable with someone I’ve never met.”

            Here it is.  A line has been drawn in the sand, and both of them are toeing at it.  It’s an important line, one that defines their relationship both professionally and personally.  Any other time, they both would stay on their respective sides, but the situation they find themselves in is pushing them toward the middle.

            “Here is what is going to happen,” Harvey says because he’s made his decision.  “You’re going to go to your desk, get your things, and meet me downstairs in a half hour.”

            “What about my work?”

            “Pick the two associates you think I would find the least annoying and dump it on them.  I want to see you in a half hour, Mike.  Get going.”

            With another hurried nod, Mike brushes past Harvey and exits the bathroom, leaving Harvey to stand in the wake of his scent.

 

**********

 

            Harvey knocks politely at Jessica’s door.  Normally, he might just barge right in--Carol, her assistant has long since stopped trying to bar him entry--but he uses the time provided by social courtesy to prepare what he’s going to say.

            Jessica nods at him to enter, still reading the open file on her desk.  He enters quietly, making sure to close the door behind him.  Unbuttoning his jacket, he sits in the chair across from her and waits with the practiced facade of patience.

            Closing the file, Jessica folds her hands on top of her desk.

           “Harvey.  What can I do for you?”

            “I need to take some time off.”

            Jessica stands gracefully and walks over to the silver tea service by the couch.  “You've certainly banked enough vacation time over the years.  It might be time for you to take advantage of it.”

            “Not a vacation.”  Harvey stands up as well, preferring to be on the same level in case this turns into a battle.  “I’m taking a week of heat-leave.”

            If she’s surprised, Jessica doesn’t show it.  She pours a second cup of tea and sets the bot down.

            “Have a cup of tea.”

            To refuse might be a misstep, so Harvey accepts his cup obediently.

            “Milk?”

            “Please.”

            “And two sugars,” Jessica says, dropping two cubes to join the milk.  “You’ve always had a secret sweet tooth, Harvey.”

            She passed the tea cup to him before sitting down on the couch; Unlike Harvey, Jessica Pearson has no need for the illusion of the high ground that lawyers like Louis cling to.  

            “I suppose I’ll need to have Louis reassign Mr. Ross’s cases.”

            “If you wouldn’t mind.”

            Jessica sips her tea, humming to herself. “We have rules about this sort of thing, Harvey.  Do I need to remind you?”

            “No, I’m well aware of the ramifications.”

            “Are you.”

            “Mike and I will sit down to fill out the paperwork tomorrow morning.  Donna will have copies of it on your desk by Monday.”

            “Make sure that she does,” Jessica says. She sets her cup on the coffee table with a resolute thunk.  “I suppose I will you the both of you in a week.”

            Harvey finishes his tea and sets the cup down as well. He stands, buttons his jacket, and starts for the door.

            “Oh, and Harvey?”  He turns back to his boss who remains in her spot on the couch.  She looks at him with steady eyes and a serious look.  “If you knock up the kid so help me I will bump you down to the forty sixth floor.”

 

**********

 

            For once, Mike does as Harvey asks and is waiting for Harvey when he steps off the elevator on the ground floor.  He’s leaning against the wall opposite the elevator doors, arms crossed over the messenger bag clutched to his chest.  From the hunch of his shoulder and way he’s bowing his head, Harvey thinks he might be trying to hide behind it.

            “Ready to go?”  It’s not so much a question as it is Harvey’s signal for Mike to follow him, and to his pleasure Mike leaps forward to fall in step beside him.  Harvey smiles even as he looks down at the face of his phone, thumb flying across the keyboard.

            “Where are we going?” Mike asks even as he hurries to keep up.  “I wasn’t aware of any client meetings.”

            “No meetings,” Harvey replies as they stride through security.  “We’re done for the day.”

            “It’s one o’clock in the afternoon,” Mike says cautiously.

            “Named partnership has its perks, Michael.”

            Mike shivers at the sound of his name—of his _full_ name—on Harvey’s tongue.  Part of him has always responded to the sound of Harvey’s voice.  It’s partially the innate response every omega has to an alpha, but Mike hopes that it’s more than that.  When Harvey says his name, in any of its variation, something inside Mike’s chest hums.

            The town car is already at the curb, and Rays stands waiting to open the door.  If he notices Mike’s condition—and Harvey doesn’t miss the moment when Ray’s nostrils flare, catching the scent of a quickly-ripening omega—he doesn’t say anything, and Harvey once again is thankful of his driver’s discretion.

            “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he greets, stepping aside to open the door.

            “Ray.”  Harvey returns the nod even as he clamps a possessive hand on the back of Mike’s neck, guiding him firmly into the back of the car.  “Fifth and Central Park, please.”

            Shut away in the back seat with Mike, Harvey has the first real opportunity to study the young omega without the pressure of an impending heat in an office full of people.  The changes in Mike are obvious, and Harvey chastises himself for not noticing sooner.  Mike’s face is fuller, softer, and even hidden behind Mike’s messenger bag, Harvey can see a slight layer of pudge around Mike’s middle.    Harvey can suddenly see what Mike might have looked like before puberty and his very first heat had burned away the baby fat of childhood.

            While he had known of Mike’s upcoming heat in the abstract, Harvey kicks himself for not noticing just how imminent it was.  Shared lunch breaks with enough food for three people, the crinkle of cellophane-wrapped snack cakes in Mike’s pockets; Mike has subconsciously been packing on the pounds his body will be burning way in throes of his upcoming heat.

            “Do I need to kick Louis’s ass when we get back to the office next week?” Harvey asks gently.

            An attractively pink flush spreads across Mike’s rounder cheeks.  “No, it doesn’t matter.”

            “Even he should know better than to comment on an omega’s heat weight,” Harvey replies.  “You could file a complaint if you’d like.”

            Mike shakes his head again, keeping his eyes fixed on his knees.  “No.  I don’t want—Anyway, I heard the other associates talking about how Donna slapped the shit out of him when I ran—when I went to the bathroom.”

            Harvey nods, accepting Mike’s answer for what it is, and turns back to his phone.  “Donna will drop by your apartment later today.  Is there anything specific you’d like her to pick up for you?”

            Mike’s eyebrows knit together.  “Are we not going to my apartment?”

            Harvey barely contains his snort of derision.  “You really think I would consent to spend an entire week in _Brooklyn_?”

            “Of course, not,” Mike sighs, looking out the window.  “You might catch something.  So, your place, then?”

            “Nope.”  Harvey’s lips pop on the ‘p.’  “My condo isn’t stocked for a heat, so I’ve booked us a room at the Plaza.”

            Mike’s jaw drops.  “The Plaza?”

            Harvey smirks in the self-satisfied way he has when he knows he’s blowing Mike’s mind.  “Their Heat Suites are like no other in the city.  We’ll be more than comfortable for the duration of your heat.”

            “You know I’ll be next to oblivious for, like, an entire week, don’t you?” Mike asks.  He finally relaxes, letting the messenger bag slide to the floor.  Harvey subtly eyes the soft curve of Mike’s newly acquired paunch.  “We could be doing it in a cardboard box in the middle of Central Park for all I’d know.”

            It should worry Harvey, how irreverently Mike treats his own heat.  That it's something to be mocked instead of celebrated and cherished.  That an alpha hasn't taken care of him like he should have been all along.

            But to know that he will be the first one to do so (the first and more importantly the  _last_ if Harvey has anything to do with it) sets something warm and altogether pleasant in Harvey's gut.

            Harvey lowers his phone and looks Mike in the eyes.  He reaches out and wraps his fingers around Mike’s wrist.  “”You’ve chosen me to be your alpha for this heat, Mike.  If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After some thought, I've decided to turn this into a WIP. It probably won't be anything more than drabbles within this universe.
> 
> This first one takes place probably a year to two years after the first.

“ _Ow_.”

Mike presses his hand against the side of his own belly.  Whoever was in there had scored a direct hit against his left kidney with their sharp, sharp little elbow.  He would have thought that the tiny person growing inside of him would have a little bit of respect for the person who has been incubating them for the last eight and a half months, but Mike has no such luck.

“You alright?” Harvey asks from where he’s loading up the dishwasher.  He stepped away and pressed his own hand against Mike’s stomach.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Mike huffs.  “Just some internal bruising, nothing--ah!--dire.”

“Are you sure?” Harvey’s hands migrate around Mike’s considerable girth and rub firmly at the muscles of his lower back.  “Maybe we should call Donna and cancel.”

Mike shakes his head.  “You don’t need to.”

“She’ll understand if you’re not feeling up to it.”  Harvey rubs the palms of his hands up Mike’s back to his neck.  He squeezes gently.  “How long have you been on your feet today?  Doctor Siglow told you to relax as much as possible.”

“Hey, I’ve relaxed,” Mike insists.

“Which means not at all.”

“There’s a lot to do.  The nursery’s a mess, and someone has to put everything away--”

“Which is what Donna is so excited to help with when she gets here.”  Harvey steps closer.  They haven’t been able to stand chest to chest since Mike entered his third trimester, so Harvey fits himself snugly at Mike’s side, his large, burgeoning belly against Harvey’s hip.  “For now, you should relax.  Got any ideas?”

Mike wraps his arms around Harvey’s neck.  His tongue darts out, wetting his lower lip as he stretches up.  “A few…”

“And?”

“And they’re all hell on my back,” Mike says.  He plants a loud, smacking kiss on Harvey’s mouth.  “Sorry, bub.”

While just the sight of Mike growing larger with his child was enough to get Harvey hot, such an advanced stage of pregnancy made sex an incredibly uncomfortable experience for Mike.  As an omega, he has always been thin yet lightly muscled, and carrying the heavy, low weight of a growing fetus caused a lot of strain on his back.

“How about a bath?” Harvey asks, stealing another kiss.  “I’ll even let you put bubbles in the water.”

“Bubbles, really?” Mike’s eyes light up.  “Wow, you must like me or something.”

“Or something.”  They share a few more lazy kisses before Mike pulls back with a grunt.

“Sorry,” he mutters, rubbing the sides of his stomach.  “That one was to my bladder.  I’m going to pee while you run the bath, okay?”

Pregnancy has destroyed any and all borders between them, so Mike using the toilet while Harvey starts the bath is no big deal.

“This kid is going to kill me,” Mike groans.  He leans forward, propped against the wall as he relieves himself.  “I can’t spend the rest of my life having to pee.”

“You’re almost there,” Harvey comforts.  He holds his hand under the faucet as the tub fills with water.  Adjusting the temperature, he reaches for the bottle of bubble bath Mike keeps on the soap tray.  He measures out a capful of the bubblegum pink soap and adds it beneath the flowing water.  “Then you’ll be spending all of your time cleaning up someone else’s pee.”

Mike flushes the toilet and moves toward the bathtub.

“You’re not going to wash your hands?”

“Harvey, we’re about to take a bath.”  When Harvey doesn’t reply, Mike rolls his eyes.  “Unbelievable.”

Harvey spins the dials, shutting the water off, and stands.  He moves up behind Mike, wrapping his arms around him again as the younger man washes his hands.

“You’re sexy like this,” he whispers, tracing his lips over the fine hairs at the back of Mike’s neck.

“Meaning I’m not sexy when I’m not the size of a blue whale?”

“Not a whale,” Harvey murmurs.  His lips migrate north to the spot behind Mike’s left ear he knows drives him crazy.  “ _Pregnant._  With our pup.”

His hands run the circumference of Mike’s torso and up his chest.  “These however…”

He tugs on the straps of Mike’s overalls.

“These are god awful,” he growls, popping the buckles.

“They’re _comfortable_ ,” Mike counters.  “More importantly, they’re the only thing that fits over this enormous gut that drives you so crazy.”

Harvey peels the blue denim down Mike’s body, bending down to help extract Mike’s feet from the overalls.  Mike balances himself against Harvey’s shoulders, stepping out of his boxers and overalls.  He lifts his arms, and Harvey stands upright to strip off his shirt.

“You’re next,” Mike says, tugging on the hem of Harvey’s old Harvard t-shirt.  Harvey allows him to pull it over his head, but when Mike reaches for Harvey’s waist, the older man stops him.

“I can do it,” he says, squeezing Mike’s fingers gently.  He shucks his pants and underwear in one go and holds out a hand to Mike.  Mike takes it, and Harvey leads him over to the bubble-filled tub.  Harvey steps and sinks into the soapy water.

“Careful now,” Harvey cautions, holding Mike’s hands tightly in his own.  “Precious cargo.”

Mike has to bit his lip to keep from laughing.  Harvey, his indomitable alpha, is really nothing but a pile of warm goo when it comes to the pup Mike is carrying.  Ever since Mike found out he was carrying shortly after their fifth mating anniversary and the subsequent heat, Harvey has gone above and beyond when it comes to making Mike as comfortable as possible.

He tries not to abuse it.  Mike is still Mike after all, and he has ever been one to rely on others simply because he is an omega, but there is something in the way that Harvey takes care of him that makes him just...happy.  It’s in his alpha’s voice when he’s murmuring to the pup late at night when he thinks Mike is asleep.  It’s in the gentle of his hand every time Harvey touches him.  It’s even in the way Harvey doesn’t complain when running down to the corner store in sweats at 2 o’clock in the morning because Mike wants pistachios and Nutella.

Settling back against the tub, arms spread out along its rim, Harvey sits and waits until Mike gets comfortable between his legs.  The tub is deep enough that normally, they would both sink below the water’s surface when they sit like this, but now, the very top of Mike’s belly peeks out above the water.

Mike swipes his hand through the bubbles and begins to build a white foamy tower on the curve of his stomach.  He piles the bubbles up, handful by handful, racing to build it higher before they slide off.

“You’re a child,” Harvey sighs, leaning his head back.  His eyes slide shut, enjoying the comforting weight of Mike’s body against his own.

“I’m _youthful_ ,” Mike insists.  He splashes water over his tower, washing it away.  “There’s a difference.”

“A difference of opinion, maybe,” Harvey hums.  Mike’s head comes to rest on his shoulder, and Harvey lays his cheek against his hair.  He drops his hands into the water and reaches out to cup the swell of Mike’s stomach, rubbing small, soothing circles into the firm skin.

“He’s been pretty active this week.”

Mike nods.  “Only eight months along and already mastered cart wheels.”

“Little one, you have to calm down,” Harvey murmurs, brushing his fingers against the flesh of Mike’s belly.  “Be a good little omega and leave your mama alone.”

 Groaning, Mike swats at Harvey’s hands.  “Do _not_ call me that.”

Harvey laughs, hands finding Mike’s belly again.  “Alright, alright.  Leave your _daddy_ alone, then.”

“That’s better,” Mike sniffs.  He cranes his neck back in order to look up at Harvey.  “And who says he’s going to be an omega?”

“You don’t think so?”

Mike shakes his head.  “Nope.  He’ll be an alpha like his papa.  I can tell.”

They fall into silence, enjoying the warmth of the water and the press of skin against skin.  Before their mating, Mike could never imagine being this close to Harvey.  Sometimes it takes him by surprise, how much things have changed.  That he can have this.

They’re _mates_.  He can touch Harvey whenever he wants, he can kiss Harvey whenever he wants.  Hell, he even has Harvey’s pup growing inside him this very moment.  It’s a lot, almost too much, but Mike isn’t alone anymore, and with Harvey at his side, Mike knows he’s ready for anything.

 “He will be whatever he will be,” Harvey says softly.  “It won’t matter to me.”

A warm, pleasant feeling curls I Mike’s chest beneath his sternum, warmer than the water they’re submerged in.  He reaches out and grips Harvey’s hand even as Harvey sets his teeth comfortably against the mark on Mike’s shoulder.

“He’ll be ours.”


End file.
